Life or Death: The 200th Hunger Games
by Noniboo
Summary: In a game of life or death, will you get a choice in winning? It's the 200th Hunger Games, and the newest leader, President Lion, is as bloodthirsty as the animal he was named after. For the newest quarter quell, there is three games, and the eight survivors from each move on to the finale. 71 losers. 1 winner. It's life or death. /AU/
1. Prologue

**All credit to MadeInWicklow on Wattpad for the idea!**

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President Ephraim Lion was a vile man, and nobody with a brain doubted it. If eyes were the windows to souls, his were the shutters- or worse, the reflection of how truly dark and twisted his nature was. Round, piggish and as impenetrable as a slab of stone, with just about the same amount of emotion as one. His olive skin was only slightly wrinkled, but his beard was aged by shocks of grey inbetween the wiry strands of black.

The set up was simple- a podium of smooth silver metal in the center of a sweeping stage, a microphone, and velvet padded silver chairs below the stage. When the president walked out, surrounded by his vice, a few bodyguards and this year's gamemaker- Vectora Locust - the whole room was filled with the most important of the capitolites. The room was awash with a spectrum of the brightest colours and latest avant garde fashions.

There was a little capitolite boy at the side of the stage, dressed in a tuxedo with gold trimming. Sandy hair slicked back, eyes lit with amazement. In his hands was a a scroll, perfectly tied together with a blue ribbon. The boy took light steps to the podium, and handed the scroll to the president.

"Thank you, Zachariah" The president's voice was low and grand, and he patted the boy on the head before Zach turned on his heels back to his former position.

"In order to honour the fact I am the third of the Lion family to be president, there will be three games, and a finale to decide the winner. The first games will be district one to four, the second district five to eight, and the third district nine to twelve. The eight left in each games will earn a place in the final games."

He left, while cameras flashed and the audience whispered with joy.


	2. District 1 Reaping

**This is the first chapter for my story. Okay, admittedly this is not the best piece of writing I've done, but the first few chapters were written back in 2012. Also, I most likely change tense -_- Anyway, here it is.**

xxxx . xxxx . xxxx

**District One**

_This is what he wanted._

The Pyres family was more of a clan, consisting of thirteen children, including me. Let me introduce myself- Garnet Pyres. First-born son and Chief mischief maker of the Pyres clan. The aforementioned he was my father, a past victor. He still longs for an arena, for the taste of sweet victory. Most of us know that he's crazy, as well. So we trained, the whole of the Pyres clan. Forgive me if I forget their names, but . The point is he worked us until breaking point and We quit school to train. I literally have no friends aside from a stupid male career who keeps following me. now its the quarter quell. Dad is going absolutely crazy, training us. He is going to force us to volunteer. Obsidian and myself. Obsidian is quite the tactical one, actually. He might win it. Me on the other hand, I don't know. I'm not good with surprises. And apparently there is going to be a lot of surprises.

My eyes open, staring at the cool blue coloured wall above. My breathing increases rapidly. I swing my legs and take my medication. I take a deep breath. My breathing Is now normal. After my mini-seizure, I feel surprisingly normal, make no effort to comb my animalistic dark hair (or even my thick, low brows) and put on a shirt and dress pants. I walk down the spiralling wooden stairs into the dining room, where my father discusses volunteering with Obsidian. I feel indifferent. I sit down at an empty seat and bite the toast covered with creamy goats cheese. Obsidian looks up at me with good luck written all over his face.

"Hello Garnet" My father says, his tanned and slightly scarred face could've been carved purely out of stone, his skin was so still. "So, as you know, you will be volunteering today for the quarter quell. Please do the Pyres family proud. Join the careers, okay?"

"This is your chance to redeem yourself after the jewelry shop incident. You know that we have to redeem ourselves now or we'll be shunned." He had to bring that up. "Reputation is everything, Garnet. You **know** that."

"Okay now. It's about time for the reaping. Lets go."

Luckily, our father isn't a mentor, as District One has had its fair share of wins. It's a girl from the 189th games. I think her name is Marble or something. Anyway I'll find out. The Pyres family are both famous- and infamous in District one, mostly infamous from a few of my 'incidents', and so the resident gawk at us as we walk past. We arrive at the grandeur of the District One square, uniformly cobblestoned and exceptionally clean. Marble lions greet us with proud grins atop their marble faces and sit proudly at each side of the stage. I wonder if my father will one day be a statue. He looks like it, though. His eyes are a flat grey colour and his hair is pure white. If only it was grey, and we could trap him in a cast of stone like he has trapped us for all these years. On a usual day the square would be bustling with activity, the shops filled with laughing adolescents or cheerful mothers. But the shops are empty. Saying this, some people look absolutely delighted. I found it stupid.

The District One escort, Delphi Honeycage, sat tall on a chair watching the kids pour in. She was probably wondering who it's going to be. She looks strange. Actually, she is strange. I've met her enough times to call her my 'acquaintance'. If she wasn't crazy. A massive fluffy afro of orange hair which is literally a meter thick sits on top of her head. Her skin- which is white as paper looks weirdly healthy and has a slight eerie pearlescent glow, but the same cannot be said for her eyes. Which were ringed with black, but dusted with bright red powder also. It made them look like dried blood. It probably was a sick joke, but I bet I was the only one who noticed. She gives me a nod and I nod back solemnly.

After I got registered, I made my way to the seventeen year old section and Obsidian went to the sixteen year old's section. If you looked close enough, we were alike. We both had wavy hair and midly tanned skin. We look sickeningly like our father did. Except I have mother's deep charcoal colored eyes and dark air, and Obsidian has my mother's warm brown hair. I take my place in the crowd, next to a seemingly excited career, who seems to notice who I am.

"Hello District One," Delphi beamed, unnatural white teeth gleaming. "And welcome to your reaping for the 200th annual hunger games" Bored already, I zone out as she started to talk about President Lion's death. Yeah, like no one knows. Its everywhere. Whispered into the ears of housewives or booming from the TV.

"Okay, first tribute to represent District One," She swirls her hand dramatically "Es-"

"I volunteer!"

A girl, probably a little older than me confidently walked up on the stage. She was willowy but athletic with tightly curled dark hair and mocha brown skin.

"Palladium Baker" She smiled at Delphi and sat on one of the six free chairs. One of them is mine.

"So, next tribute-" She pauses "Indium Baker!" An unfamiliar name followed by an unfamiliar face. Wait, Baker? They must be sisters. They were a lot like, but the girl was a lot shorter and had a rounder face and features. She looks frightened, which is strange as her sister wasn't at all. The girl makes her to the stage and sits down, noticeably away from her sister.

Should I just volunteer? No. I'm going to be picked. It was one of those feelings, like I could sense it was going to be-

"Garnet Pyres!" Her head turns to me "Son of Wicket Pyres"

All eyes turn to me as I walk up to the stage, smile slightly at Delphi, and sit down next to Palladium. Now that im closer to her, I notice the slight ruthlessness of her brown eyes. She's a career. I nod at her and turn to watch if Obsidian will volunteer.

"A victor's son! What will we have next?" She picks out a name "Lucian Ronda!"

A boy, medium height with a skinny build walks on the stage. Lucian Ronda? I'm sure I've seen him before. His eyes seem to pop out of his head. Oh, yes I think he was the kid bullied in the year below me. What was his nickname? Bug-eyes? How original. He takes a seat.

"Okay, next tribute. Cecile Bright!"

"I volunteer as tribute." A familiar voice pipes up. It's Obsidian.

"Oh, another volunteer!" She smiles at Obsidian. She knows who he is. " Name, please?"

"Obsidian Pyres." He takes a seat next to me and grins. I rolled my eyes jokingly.

"Okay, it's now time for the last tribute." She smiles widely. "Lyda Coohse"

A girl, slightly skinny with straggly red hair and large dark green eyes saunters on the stage a faint smile playing on her lips. She looks really young but she's probably a career. I can tell. She sits down with the same determined smile plastered on her lips. Creepy. So, Its over. I'm going to the Capitol. He's proud of me. Wicker Pyres, proud of Garnet Pyres. It seemed almost unreal. But wait, no- he's looking at Obsidian. My smile faltered.

"Well, that concludes the reaping for the 200th Annual Hunger Games!"


	3. District 2 Reaping

**Olfran Stranflux, District 2 Escort. **

xxxx. xxxx. xxxx.

"Olf, Olf-ster!" Quent smiles at me, one of his teeth knocked out. "Can't wait to see the tributes. Can you believe it? Six?" Quent Ridges hasn't been taking care of himself lately. His breath smelt of cigarettes. Quent's blonde hair was oily and his once olive skin a sallow color. He was speaking too fast, and not pronouncing some letters, making him sound jumbled. But he was the only victor I could call my friend.

"Yes, I'm as excited as you are Quent" I say, giving a half-smile "I think District Two has a good chance" District Two usually wins. Being one of the three designated career districts, we actually have a great chance. I comb my hair, purple periwinkle I think the colour is.

"A minute to go Olf."I get ready in my position above the stage.

"District Two, p

lease welcome your escort, Olfran Stranflux!" The mayor throws his hands dramatically to welcome me.

_Glorious. _I think as I look a``e crowd. Most are smiling.

"What time is it?" I ask the crowd. My signature 'hello' If you could call it that.

"Hunger Games time!" The crowd responds. Mostly careers make up district two. Thesquare looks different. It's been done up-I review it quickly. Simple, but effective, Lots of steel used in a contemporary way, but enough stone as well. District Two are of course the masonry and weaponry district. What else would you expect?

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the fabulous reaping for the 200th annual hunger games" I smile "A quarter quell, how interesting. Well that would make it all the much better to win!" I love having a career district. Everyone is content. I remember starting out with District Nine, It was always so miserable there.

"Should we start?" I say to the crowd. They shout back a 'yes' in unison. "I can't hear you…" The crowd shouts louder. Echoing a yes across the square. "Okay, first tribute. Hudson Knightree!" There should be cries of volunteering, but when I see this Hudson person I immediately know why not. Intimidating was one word for it. Cold grey eyes and a black mop of hair, standing maybe around six feet tall. By the time everyone had felt so intimidated he'd already taken his place as tribute. He smiled politely at me and sat down at one of the six available seats.

"Ri-"

"I volunteer!" A voice comes from the girls section. It's a slight girl, with bright red hair and green eyes. She skipped happily on the stage and announces her name.

"Jeana Tarman. And you can expect to see more of this face." She beamed at me confidently and seemed to relax when she sits down.

"There's one to watch out for!" I wink "Next is, Sara-"

"Olf! I volunteer!" A deep voice, coming from a largely built guy. A stereotypical career, with short crew cut brown hair and cloudy blue eyes.

"Name?" I ask.

"Orion Ackerly"-

_This is fun. _I thought, sizing up the tributes. No doubt Jeana has a trick up her sleeve. Maybe throwing knives or axes, or even a dagger. Hudson still had a smirk on his face. They all probably are in the careers. Who knows, District two might win. I turned to face the crowd.

"Lots of careers! Next name is, Melio Raven"

A boy of maybe thirteen with brown eyes and hair steps out.

"No, Meli- wait, I volunteer!" A girl shouted. She has black hair and light coloured eyes. "My name is Levana Raven."

"Siblings?" I ask her.

"Yes, he's my step brother" I nod at her

"Interesting." I smile at her. "The next tribute is, Reuben Knightree!" A boy eagerly stepped out of the crowd. Wait, haven't I seen him before? Knightree, they must've been twins. Glorious. There were a few volunteers but Reuben had already made his way to the stage.

"Twins! How exciting. Are you a career?"

"Yes. And I will win this" He said eagerly, sitting next to his twin. They both had steel grey eyes. And black hair.

"Oh gosh, we are on to our final tribute. Who's it going to be?" I mock surprise. "Rock Xavier!" He's a career. I make my decision quickly. Light brown-blonde hair, and sea green eyes which are spaced far apart. He doesn't smile as he makes his way up to the stage, his face painfully neutral. He sits down. Same expression.

"Time for me to go back to the capitol with our amazing tributes- Hudson Knightree, Reuben Knightree, Levana Raven, Jeana Tarman, and Rock Xavier" I smile. "Could we win?" I hear a yes chanted at me. "Keep watching the TV for more updates. Happy hunger games, and may the odds be ever in your favor.


	4. District 3 Reaping

On the morning of the reaping, it was warm aside from a cool breeze. I loved mornings like this. doesn't agree with me, the cold wind feels like its creeping in to my veins, or frosting over my bones. Overall, not a good feeling. I hadn't given much though to the day, it was just another one of them passing . Any way, all days ended the same. Me curled up by the fire reading Homer. _The great classics that stuck in your mind forever, the battles of heroes, defeats of monsters and the inevitable tragedy. _ My family loved Ancient Greek times. Stories about monsters and gods, it has intrigued the Themis family for a number of years, in fact, the name Themis comes from the titan of law, something I love having written on my birth certificate, instead of a boring name.

But one story has been stuck in my head. It has appeared in my nightmares numerous times. Or even in my good dreams, which are strangely few and far between, the word will appear one way or another.

_Theseus and the Minotaur._

It started a few years ago, when I first read the story by candlelight at winter. I originally thought it was my imagination playing tricks on me, it often did, but I realised that the scene was changing in front of me. The sofa was becoming a stone slab. The carpet, dirt. The wallpapered walls of the living room were becoming the high walls of the scene changed back almost in the blink of an eye.

The familiar sound of my father working out calculations was a must for me to hear in the morning. It told me that I wasn't dead, and most importantly, he wasn't dead. Aside from Canary, he's all I have left. I'm going to spare you a sob story, but my mom died of a terminal illness when I was young. I'm glad I didn't get to meet her, because by the sound of it I would be attached.

Today started off the same, with the sound of buzzing electricity and keyboard tapping. I smiled as I woke up, thinking it was going to be a great day. But a feeling of anxiousness hung in the air. Something that I couldn't shake off.

A feeling of cold.

I looked around the room, I hadn't turned the light on, so the bright, untouched white paint looked a miserable shade blue-gray. My eyes began analysing the room. It was a weird thing that ran on my fathers side of the family. Along with having creepy hawk eyes. Was there anything out of the ordinary? Yes. A dress.

I stepped over to touch the dress. It was dark grey, but not exactly. I'd seen the colour before but I couldn't put my finger on it, the material was soft to the touch and thin. The dress flowed beautifully in coils down the skirt, giving the appearance of a grey river. _Carrying me away from this monstrosity of a world. _ It collared sharply at the top. I studied it and realized the colour of the dress … **_The colour of ashes_**_. _There was a note attached to the dress, written neatly and precisely in black pen with certain flicks on the ends of each letter. It was written on slightly yellowing paper that was curved at the edges, having been bent many times. One word, seven letters, two syllables. _'Reaping'. _It was the reaping today. A sense of unease washed over me like a tsunami. In the worst situations , like this, I could be really pessimistic. I sighed and realised I probably should get ready. I changed into the dress, and braided my hair into two parts. It wasn't really a black tie event, I so guessed it would do. The sound of heavy footsteps came down from the hall to my door. A light knock.

"Cass, are you awake?" My dad asked. He was carrying a plate of burned toast, not buttered.

"Awake and dressed" I laugh. He knows I like mornings. His salt-and-pepper hair stuck out in all directions. Like a mad scientist. "Did you get electrocuted?" I ask jokingly.

"No- but this **toast **did!" And he makes a buzzing sound as he places the toast on my lap.

"Thanks" I smile at him. I know my dad is a dork, but it makes me love him more. "The toast is amazing." He hugs me.

"Cass- I guess you know, it's the reaping today, right?" I nod solemnly. "Your name is only in the certain amount of times it needs to."

"Okay" I say calmly. I'm not going to go crazy, as I have seen others do In the past. I will not protest, kick, scream, slap, bite, rip or tear. I will be calm. _Even when I am chosen. _My dad waved goodbye at me as I made way to the square for the reaping. It was only about two miles away. "Clara!" I look round and Canary is smiling at me. Her skin tone is quite like mine, except slightly darker. Her hair is pulled in to a ponytail.

"Hey 'Nary, how are you" I ask her "Sorry, stupid question" I correct myself

"Its okay." She half-smiles.

After a bit of walking through the roads of district three, we arrive at the square. Being the third richest district aside from the Capitol meant the square was spotlessly clean. There was lots of glass panels, in fact the floor of the square was glass, looking on to black nothingness.

"Lets go" I whisper to her and she nods. The whole of the district looks glum. The parents, children, even the usually jolly mayor had a sombre look on his face as he sat, waiting. Waiting. Children waiting for their deaths. It sounded familiar.

"Hello District Three and welcome to the reaping for the 200th annual hunger games. As you know, it is a quarter quell, and there is three times more tributes. The games are split into three for this reason. Sadly, President Augustus Lion has died of an unfortunate **Morphling addiction**. In his honour, the new President who is following in his father's footsteps, his son Ephraim Lion- has added lots of hidden surprises." The mayor seemed distant, like he's staring through the crowd at something much more interesting.

"Please welcome Caraway Solis, District Three's escort."

The district escort, Caraway Solis walks on.

"It is now time." Caraway says, her capitol drawl drawn out for failed dramatic effect. Her hair was dark blue in color and tied up. An oversized hat she could most likely not see out of sat on top of her curled hair. Caraway's cheekbones were accentuated with blue. She smiled, but wasn't annoyingly bubbly like most other escorts. In some way it helps, not having an escort **too **excited about picking kids names from a fishbowl so they can kill each other. "To select six young men or women, to once again be sent to the capitol and compete In the 200th annual hunger games." She still has the same expression. "Let us begin."

"Jove Liliac!"

A boy stepped out of the thirteen year old section. He was playing with his hands, and his eyes were moving from each side to the other. He stopped right before the stage and he was pulled up by peacekeepers. He sat down.

"Next tribute is, Erikah Hannelore!"

Silence.

Then a girl broke down in a crying fit. She fainted and her head smashed against the glass. . The cut started to bleed really badly. The girl looked quite old, maybe in her late teens.

"I volunteer!"

A voice shouted from the twelve year olds section. A few gasps were heard as a small girl with long brown hair in braids made her way to the stage. The little girl was frowning.

" What is your name?"

"Isha Hannelore" The girl replies

"So, Is that your older sister?"

"Yes, It is." She says and sits herself down.

"Okay"

_I'm going to be sick. _There's a feeling in the pit of my stomach. I feel like frost has settled on my skin and seeped into my blood. _I'm going to faint_. Something is not right. Then it happens. Time seems to slow down. Then a scraping sound. Nails on chalk. But worse, it sounds like nails on solid stone. Then I'm back to reality .

"Cassopeia Themis"

I breathe a sigh of relief. It's not me. For one glorious year, I will push back the thought of a horrible end. Leave it in the dark corner of my mind. Then the reality sinks in, Cassopeia Themis is my name. There must be a mistake. But people are staring at me. It's me. I look at Canary. She looks at me in shock, her eyes wide and filled with disbelief. She is about to volunteer when peacekeepers take my wrists, but I writhe free and walk up to the stage myself. I'd much rather it's me than Canary. I take a seat next to the twelve year old, Isha. She smiles slightly at me and I smile back. 'nice name' she mouths. 'Yours too' I mouth back. I look for my father. I see his salt-and-pepper coloured hair. He looks too horrified to cry.

"Symphony Xandray" A girl with oddly coloured bright pink hair and blue eyes looks petrified as she climbs upon here and quickens her pace to get to a seat. I focus my eyes on Canary. She looks like pure terror. Her eyes are still bulging and she's covering her mouth. And then something that will change my life forever happened.

"Canary Nockett!"

No. There must be another Canary Nockett somewhere in District 3. Of course, yes there is. But **my **friend Canary is walking to the stage. She is getting closer. _No, It's not you! _I feel like shouting. But my face stays in the same solemn expression and my legs do not obey me. Canary sits down in the available seat beside me. I turn to her.

"What is happening" I whisper. I'm still in shock. I'm electrocuted.

"Our last tribute is… Phaedra Alace!" A girl appears from the crowd with wild wavy hair and unnaturally blue eyes. "I'm fourteen." She says into the microphone. Her voice is like a whisper, even with the microphone amplifying it. Caraway motions for her to sit down and she does so.

"And there you have it. District 3's reaping for the 200th Annual hunger games. May the odds be ever in your favour!"


	5. District 4 Reaping

**Taya Lordez, District 4 Escort **

xxxx. xxxx. xxxx.

District four was nice, In a ragged, weird, un-captiol way. The air tasted of sea-salt, and everyone was tanned from the bright sunlight. It was an unexceptionally warm day today. My hair is going to go crazy because of the humidity, but I sigh contently as warm air floods over me. The capitol is usually a bit colder than this. I give a polite smile to the taxi driver as he rolls up beside the town square. The town square was paved with grey stones, gleaming with unknown and most likely not valuable gems. District Four was a career district, but some of the time the kids aren't careers. It's an interesting mix.

"Taya you're on in a few" A camera man tells me. I nod at him and inspect my hair. It's not too bad actually. The mayor, a tall man with red hair tells the crowd his speech. He warily adds in a section about President Lion's death.

"-Anyway, welcome your escort Taya Lordez!"

I smile excitedly as I walk on to the stage. The crowd has mixed expressions. From horrified, to happy and everywhere in between.

"Hello District Four, my name is Taya Lordez, but as the mayor just announced it I'd think you would know already. We're going to go ahead and get started!" I pause for suspense. "It's, Laguna Aire!"

An olive-skinned girl comes out from the sixteen year old area. Peacekeepers try to pull her but she kicks free.

"Get off me! " The girl says while walking up to the stage. She sits down.

"Watch out we've got a feisty one over here!" I say to the crowd, flashing a smile. The square is nice and neat, as District 4 is one of the wealthiest districts.

I pull out the paper slip and read, "Dana Hope-Merlott" A young girl with wild hair steps out of the twelve year old section and she looks scared. Why should she, It's an **honor**! I thought district 4 was a happy district? Maybe I was wrong. "C'mon dearie, don't be shy" I offer my hand to her, and lead her to her seat. I pat down my hair and place my hand in the bowl.

"We have, Alix Saline!" A young girl steps out of the crowd. Her hair was done in an intricate braid, but it still looked dry and brittle. She hugs a peacekeeper. Why on earth? Might be a relative, although that is illegal! She steps on the stage and politely shakes my hand. The girl goes to sit down.

"The next tribute to be reaped is" I pick a name out of the bowl "Calista Kendric!" The girl screamed innocence- with large brown eyes, caramel hued hair and an ivory complexion. She didn't look like she belonged in the rough and tumble district that was District four, but by the way she carried herself you would have though she was an assassin. Graceful, but oh so deadly. She sat herself down.

"Wa-"

"I volunteer!" A career, interesting. The boy makes his way to the stage. His hair was messy and dark but streaked with a golden blonde. The tribute's eyes were light in colour. He walks to the microphone

"My name is Sawyer Mazarine" He smiles at me and takes a seat.

We're on to the final tribute.

"Tadd Mikals!" A little boy came out from the twelve year old section. He looked younger than twelve. Maybe seven. Or less. The audience looks in shock as the little boy takes his seat. They're whispering.

"Well, that was the reaping for the first part of the 200th annual hunger games! May the odds be ever in your favour" I say hurriedly, before anyone can object.


	6. Train

**To make things more interesting, all tributes are on the same train. To everyone who is, thanks for reading my story 3**

* * *

**Lucian Ronda**

_"__Loser"_

I winced as I remembered the memories. The words like knives. Or even the actual knives. It was all going away, I was in the Hunger Games. Me, Lucian Ronda, was reaped. I'm a career. It's not obvious when you look at me. I'm skinny and small. But when most of my district would simply slice, I would duck, feint and then slice. Despite this I don't enjoy killing, Those that know me best can tell you that. But im a great actor; I'm not gloating, but that is another part of my life. I'll only tell my closest friends if im acting. If I had any. District One is the same, six foot tall idiots or vain girls, so I was the odd one out at school. I was bullied, I could've attacked them, but that would get me into too much trouble, so I waited for school to end,. - and now it finally has.

District One's escort Delphi Honeycage takes me and the six other District One tributes on the train. There is one that sticks out to me is a very young girl. Indium Baker? I don't think she volunteered. Her intelligent brown eyes sparkled with life and knowing, I whispered to her,

" Allies? There's strength in numbers" Indium looked a little taken-aback that someone had talked to her.

"Sure. Is there anyone else we could ask?" She whispered to me.

"Lets see." I smile at her. The train was absolutely massive. It had to fit 24 people, so I should have expected that. There was a top floor, that looked extremely spacious. It had glass windows, so I could look in- the interior was fantastic. Delphi waved her hand at the door, and it slid open seamlessly. I climbed in, looking around. It looked like a room. White paint covered the walls, and sofas sat around the edges. There was food everywhere. Delphi instructed us to sit down, as we were about to meet our mentor.

"Wait a minute, I'll get her" She smiled and hurried along to find the girl. I looked at the tributes closely. There was a girl the exact same hair colour as her skin, café au lait coloured. She was slightly tall, towering over me, but it doesn't take really that much to tower over me. Another was a boy, maybe seventeen with wavy hair the colour of the rich dark chocolates that I'd seen in the candy shops near my home. I think I'd seen him before, oh of course! He was Wicket's son. Same eyes. Sitting next to him was someone remarkably like him, except with longer hair that swept over his forehead and rested on an ear and warmer eyes which were dark brown. They could be brothers. A girl sat in the corner, smirking. She was pale and terribly skinny, with tangled maroon coloured hair and large green eyes that were lit with madness.

"Hello Tributes" Our mentor was fairly slim, with the faint outline of muscle, more than me anyway, and small blue eyes with dark curly hair that stayed close to her scalp. "Name is Marble Velveteen" She looked at us, sizing us all up. She probably thought I'd be the first to die. _Well, everyone does._

"I'm here to help in any way I can" She smiled "I won the 189th hunger games, aged sixteen. Some of you weren't born, others only young"

"I was five" The boy, Garnet responded "It was the first games I can remember. Your weapon was a scythe, right?"

"Yes, correct." She smiled "any questions?"

Marble was soon flooded with lots of question like, how to get sponsors, what to do at the bloodbath, should they make an alliance etc. She answered them politely, smiling. I wondered how many people she'd killed, but I kept to myself. After we'd finished asking questions, I noticed the train was moving, slowly but surely we picked up pace until the world outside of the train was just a blur of greens, browns and blues.

"We'll be at District Two in an hour. Then District three quarters of an hour after that. This train is faster than the ones even twenty-five years ago, the technology keeps getting better." I sit down with Indium and we discuss tactics. District 2 will be about ninety-eight percent careers, possibly even more. So most will join the career pack,. District 3 will be smart, mostly. District 4 will most likely be amazing swimmers, but you never know, I might be stereotyping. I also find from Inidum out the girl with coffee coloured skin is her older sister. Who hates her and is a career. Great.

"We should maybe team up with some one from District 3. They're mostly always intelligent" She says.

"As long as they **want** to team up with us I'm fine." I laugh half-heartedly.

"Who wouldn't." Indium smiles.

We arrive at District Two when it reaches about midday, and the sun is high in the sky, causing me to scrunch my eyes and look odd. They flood in, all muscles and tall statures. They ignore us and walk over to where Wicket's two sons, Garnet and Obsidian, and Indium's sister Palladium sit. They've made an alliance, A career alliance. I walk into a large room with oddly shaped sofas. _We'll arrive at District Three soon._ I watched a snippet of the reaping, and its five girls and one boy. Soon after, we come to a halt.

An arm, after that a full person and by the time I knew it the tributes of district three were flooding in. The first I notice is a girl with platinum blonde hair falling plain and straight from her scalp. Her features were sharp and slanted, lips were twisted in to a slight frown . The golden strands were pushed off of her forehead and +twisted at the nape of her neck, and I see the pale colour of the girl's skin in the glare of the sun. Her hands clutched a tattered book, a once bright blue that had turned duller over the years, gradually fading. It was the oldest thing I have ever seen by the looks of it. Even older than the dark days. I wonder what It was like before the capitol and all this hunger games crap, people could live their lives without the constant reminder of death, like a conscience almost, always nagging in your head. If only I could go back that far. The girl walks, and her walk is more like a Giselle, gracefully prancing along. _Running from the predator._

By her side is a girl, a tall girl, maybe too tall to be a teenager. The girl is shaped more like the woman she will become, and less like the girl she has been, raven coloured hair with bluer undertones than my hair was pulled back in a ponytail at the top of her head, but from what I could see it had a slight wave to it when It fell free down her back. Her features were less pointed and more round, and they made her face look like a solar system, with little round planets. The sun of course, is the girls head. Looming above all . The rest of the planets are made up of two dark green eyes, a round and slightly upturned nose and doll-like lips, the stars in her dewy, bright complexion.

Beside the raven haired girl is a smaller kid, around the age range of twelve to thirteen. Strangely, her skin is tanned, too tanned for the thick blanket of smoke that blocks sunlight above District Three. Her dark hair is braided into two sections, wisps falling out in random places. The girl's face is very soft looking, a lot like Indium's in a way, but with thicker eyebrows framing it.

The blond girl hurries past the rest and sits near me. Well, not exactly beside me but only a metre away, pianist's fingers tapping against the edge of the sofa rhythmically. She had made herself comfortable.

"What's that book called?" I ask her, puzzled. I tried to get a better look at it so I wouldn't have to ask, but to no avail. She looks up at me and replies,

"The Hobbit" She looked at me like she expected my eyes to light up with knowing. Instead, I asked:

"When was it written?" I lean closer, my expressions suggesting curiosity on the subject.

"Hm." The girl pauses, flips the book around in her hands, and opens it. The paper of the book is an antique white sort of colour, and the book is printed in fading black ink, almost a dark shade of grey. Her fingers moves across the paper, until she finds a date "1961."

1961. That was a long time ago, I'm sure, and judging by the state of the book, it has been through a lot. I lean back on the sofa.

"Wow." I look a little closer at the book. In fountain pen, someone scrawled 'Property of Henry E'. Next to it, in fountain pen again, and in much neater handwriting, there was 'Property of Cassopeia Themis'. Judging by the girls appearance, she was Cass. But who was Henry?

"Cass Themis" She paused, most likely contemplating the fact that I was a stranger " Erm… Cassopeia Themis. But you already know that." She gestured to the book and smiled slightly.

"Lucian Ronda, District One" I say, shaking her outstretched hand. Her two friends were talking to Indium, so we sauntered over.

"Cass, this is Indium." The girl with raven coloured hair tells her.

"Canary, Isha, **this **is Lucian" She pauses "Lucian, Canary and Isha"

"Cass this is Indium. Indium this is Cass" I say

"Okay, enough with the introductions." Cass said, snapping her book shut. We start talking for a while and I bring up:

"Alliance? There's more chance of us, um, not dying, if we have lots of us" I ask her. _I sound stupid._

"Sure." Isha replies. "Only eight can survive these games and there's only, what, five of us?"

The train stops again, and in stead of running towards the window, I pull a blanket off of a seat and wrap it around my shoulders, it's furry embrace warming me up. We've arrived at district four, and the tributes walk in with mixed reactions. Four girls and two boys.

"Psh. Who cares about the careers. We can get through this thing!" Canary says proudly, pumping her fist in to the air. It echoes through the train and suddenly everyone goes silent. And the careers turned around and stared at us, huddled in a circle in the far corner of the room. We probably look weird, like we're in the middle of a creepy witch ritual, because we're such a tight circle with our heads facing downwards. The careers did a sort of snort and the chatter started back up almost instantly within the room. I gulped.

"Maybe that was _ever so slightly _too loud, Canary" I patt her on the back.

"_Ever so slightly" _Violet repeats while inwardly giggling. She stops herself and clears her throat before saying "Well, now they've probably targeted us, seen us as those weird weak kids. We'll prove them wrong. We need to have a few tricks up our sleeves guys. Lets go figure them out"

**Hudson Knightree**

"No, no, double no"

I almost laugh at the tactics being offered. None of them will work. They've been done millions of times by every single career pack ever. Something different Is what we'll need. Hudson Knightree is not dying this time round.

"We don't know what the arena will be like. It could be a ruined city, or a dense forest. Tactics will come in time, Hud." Garnet says coolly, hugging one knee to his chest.

"I suppose so." Reuben and I reply at the exact moment. _It's a twin thing, lest you haven't noticed by the exact same messy black hair and icy blue eyes fit for a killer that me and Reuben share. _My expression is neutral as I analyse our members properly. Vitoria is good with axes. I've seen her in career training long enough to know her aim is almost perfect. She's small in frame, yes, but lean muscle covers her tiny body. We also have Garnet and Obsidian, brothers, of course. I hear garnet wields a dagger, which is fairly refreshing. I'm not sure about Obsidian, though. Orion and Sawyer are discussing sword fighting and trident-fighting, so I place a rough guess on what their weapons are. My weapon? A spear. Yes, a spear. So original for a career, I know.

"The food here is great" I muse before taking a chocolate filled with a rich, gooey purple coloured syrup.

"I know" Palladium adds, holding a slice of delicately and ornately decorated cake in her hands before placing it down again. "We shouldn't gorge though. There'll be next to no food in the arena"

I spit out the chocolate on to my plate.

**A voice sounds and **my eyes wander to the corner where the voice came from. I look and find a few tributes In the corner, give a slight laugh and continue on my business.

I can't wait for the games. The excitement is literally killing me.

Literally.

(not really as I will win)

* * *

**Dana Hope-Merlott**

Wild mousy brown coloured curls stick to my face with sweat and I pull them back in to a mock ponytail, then let them free. I begin raking through the monster with my hunched over fingers, every once in a while hitting a knot and feeling a blast of pain in my scalp. I then pull the knot a part with two hands and continue with the regime, hearing Alix blabber on about everything. I knead my scalp for a while, then begin to have a game of eye spy with my self as the train smoothly slides from zero miles per hour to two hundred and fifty. Or more. I've lost count, really.

"Are you listening, Dana!"

I nod, my eyes flicking downwards on to the sleek granite table that feels strangely warm under my hands. I place my hands on the table, although they don't sit right. The skin is dry on my hands, the fingernails so short that they bleed occasionally, and the fingers themselves stick out at awkward angles. Alix balls her fists, which If I must say so myself are chubby, and bashes against my sore fingers. I pull them back in reflexes, the soreness amplifying by a three digit number, and let out a quiet, choked sob that would only be heard if you were sitting next to me.

I pull hair over my face in an attempt to hide my tears, which came fast and in great numbers. My hair sticks to my face again and I blow on it so it goes away. _I just want everyone to go away- Alix, Mother, the peacekeepers, everyone. _I wipe my tears and then return my eyes to Alix's gaze, which is ugly, if I'm allowed to say. Her eyes are a dull blue that isn't exactly blue and are spaced too far apart. Her eyebrows are a mess. I try and sign language to her that she was mean, but I guess she didn't get it. After all, I had just met her. Did she know that I could not speak?

"Next time" she says smiling

"Listen."

* * *

**Laguna Aire**

When the train arrives in the Capitol, the sun is just beginning to set over the cloudless sky. I have been told all my life about the Capitol and it wondrous features- but now I think I might've been force fed inaccurate information about the Capitol, as it doesn't look particularly special to me, actually, quite the opposite. The buildings give off an aura of cold heartlessness, making the place seem like a slaughterhouse. And unlike the streets of District Four, the place has no life- no soul- and it seems entirely superficial. I'd rather live in a slum than live here. I don't know how I ended up with this group of tributes, but I did, and I'm glad, because they seem like alright people. I wouldn't say friends as of yet, but I'm an untrusting person. I guess we'll have to wait and see.

"I hate it." Phaedra says, her voice almost ethereal sounding against the white noise of others chatter. Her blonde hair ends at about her mid-neck in an untidy fashion,which is actually unusual for District Four, seeing as the regular tidying of a bob is deemed as time consuming, and most working women opt for a crew-cut.

"Same" I reply, staring out of the window "It's just so fake." My other allies have left for an unknown reason, probably to get some food. The food here is divine, I'll give them that, but there is an underlying taste in every delicacy. Fear.

"You always think it won't be you." I muse, staring up at the high ceiling of the train. "And then it is, and you don't know what to do. Is was a career until last year, and this was the year I was supposed to volunteer. Ironic, huh."

"Every atom in your body is billions of years old." She says and clamps her hand over her mouth with surprising force, obviously blurting out a meaningless fact.

"But it doesn't feel like it, does it?" I say, trying to lessen the embarrassment, but also stating part truth.

"No" She says- her voice almost like a whisper as the train arrives at the platform. We're then thrown in with the lions. The Capitol crowd is ruthless, obsessed, crazy- I see a flock of them and realise why they are mocked mercilessly back home. They look fake, just like their excuse of a city. You'd think that beings as strange looking as them would be dying their skin, embedding contacts into their eyes and god knows else what to be unique- that would be understandable In my opinion, but no, they do it to fit in. _Oh, what people will do to be like everyone else._

"Ba-ack!" I hear Levana sing. I'll give one thing to her- the girl is amazingly postitive for the situation at hand. She is followed by Rock- an ex-career like me except he actually appears to be one and Calista, a hydromaniac and daughter of a pirate apparently.

"Let's put on a show." I say, giving a weak smile to my allies, "We might come out alive."


End file.
